Colorful
by jenorama
Summary: Three long years of Auror training is complete and there's only one task left. Ginny to the rescue. This occurs between Disaster Button and Ride My Car.


The trestle table virtually groaned under the weight of the food piled up on it. Mrs. Weasley insisted that she hadn't made everything herself, but Harry had eaten enough meals at the Burrow to know Molly's touch and just about all the food at the party bore her unmistakable stamp.

The warm summer night was full of voices raised in convivial conversation and both Harry and Ron had received ample slaps on the back and congratulations from the assemblage. "Look at you two," one wizened old witch had squeaked, squinting at the two of them, "the next generation, ready to carry on!" She nodded proudly and squeezed Harry's arm harder than he would have thought her able to.

Another wizard elbowed her out of the way in his effort to get to Harry and Ron, holding out two shot glasses filled with a dubious-looking cloudy liquid. "Sláinte!" he shouted, throwing back his own shot. Shrugging at Ron, Harry followed suit, shaking his head at the assault on his sinuses and throat. Satisfied that his boon had been accepted, the wizard strode off with a curt nod.

"Bloody hell, what WAS that?" Harry wheezed.

"I dunno mate, but I want some more!" Ron wiped his nose and sucked in his breath between his teeth before standing up. "You all right, yeah?"

"Yeah. Go on," Harry said, waving Ron off into the crowd. He tried to sink deeper into the shadows of the little corner of the garden he'd set himself up in. He hadn't seen this many people in one place since Bill and Fleur's wedding and he well remembered what happened there. Huge crowds still had the power to unnerve him and he found himself surveying the people, trying to pick out who was acting strangely.

He was concentrating on the crowd so much, he completely missed Neville settling down into the lawn chair next to him. "Hiya, Harry," he said amiably, balancing a huge plate, piled high with delicacies, on his knees.

"All right, Nev?" Harry asked, masking his startle.

"Yeah, all right," Neville answered around a Cornish pasty.

"Did Hannah come with you?" Neville cocked his head over to the left and Harry saw her, hugely pregnant and surrounded by women. It looked like Molly had some sort of pendulum on a string and the women were discussing what the movement portended in a very heated fashion. "Any day now, yeah?"

Neville nodded, his expression managing to look both panicked and beatifically happy. He swallowed and sat back in the seat. "Yeah. I keep trying to get her off her feet and resting, but it's like she's been seized with this...energy. I come home and she's painted another room, moved all of the furniture and baked up a storm." He patted his stomach which had the beginnings of a paunch. "I tell you, Harry, I can't wait to lose this baby weight."

Harry laughed and shook his head and they conversed easily about how life had been since the Battle of Hogwarts. "How are the students treating you?"

"Well enough. It's kind of weird. I'm only a few years older than some of them-the seventh years, you know? Some of them were there. Not many because a lot of the really young ones stayed home that whole year, but I've had a few come up to me." Neville looked introspective and paused with a raisin-studded bun halfway to his mouth. He pushed it in and mumbled, "Some of them ask me about you three."

Harry sighed inwardly, sorry that even his friends had to deal with his legend when he had gotten quite tired of it himself a long time ago. "Sorry, mate."

"No, don't be," Neville demurred, "you did what you had to do and that's going to live on for a long time, you know. Besides, I get plenty of questions about what it was like to cut off a snake's head with Godric Gryffindor's own sword."

"Fair enough." Harry lapsed back into quiet, scanning the crowd again. He noticed that Ginny had joined the cluster of women around Hannah, eager to put in her own Healer Trainee opinion. The twinkling lights scattered around the garden made her hair look like burnished copper. Abruptly he realized Neville was talking to him. "Sorry?"

"So next week, eh? The big ceremony?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah and then we're off immediately for a survival course. Sort of a practice run, I gather. No one has really told us what to expect."

"Sounds exciting."

"It does." Harry blew out a breath and settled back into the lawn chair, lacing his fingers over his stomach. "I just want to be done. Done and out doing stuff." Neville nodded in sympathy and popped the last few bites into his mouth. "Looks like you're being summoned," Harry said, pointing his chin at Hannah. The entire group of women was now focused on Neville and he stood up with a groan.

"Oh God, what could they possibly want me for?" He dusted the crumbs from his trousers and turned back to Harry. "Oh, almost forgot. Happy birthday, Harry."

"Ah, that's right. Happy birthday, Nev." He watched Neville join the women where he was immediately grabbed by the shoulders and made to stand next to Hannah. Much handwaving occurred with the old witch that spoke to Harry and Ron earlier in the evening holding forth at great length.

Ginny had a doubtful look on her face and shook her head in disagreement, trying to cut in with her own thoughts on whatever matter held them in rapt attention before throwing up her hands in exasperation. She turned away from the group and Harry caught her eye, frowning when she saw him sitting alone. Pantomiming walking around with her fingers, she mouthed the word, "Mingle" forcefully at him. Knowing he had no choice but to comply, Harry left his lawn chair with a loud creak.

Skirting the edges of the crowd, he was immediately assailed by a gaggle of well-wishers and looked desperately for Ron, finally spying him sitting at a table and surrounded by young witches. They all seemed to be vying for the privilege of feeding him by hand and Ron was only too happy to oblige. The tip of his nose was very red, indicating that he had indeed located more of that cloudy libation.

"Here, why aren't you drinking anything?" George handed him a glass of dark beer and Harry drank as they both watched Ron. "Ickle Ronniekins. All grown up now, eh?"

"Well, he's bigger. Dunno about grown up," Harry said, taking a long drink of his beer. It tasted heavenly. "Thanks for that, mate."

"Ugh, look at that. What do women see in him? I mean really." Ron was now catching popcorn being tossed at him by a cute blonde with his mouth. George's face was a mask of disgust.

"I've never known, but they see something." _One witch in particular_ , he thought sadly.

"Well, I can't watch that anymore. Time for a change of scenery." George held out his beer to Harry and they clinked glasses. "Make us proud out there, yeah?"

"Yeah." Quickly losing George in the shifting throng, Harry glanced around. For once, no one was trying to push a plate of food at him or grabbing onto him or waiting in line to speak with him. In fact, no one was looking at him at all. _Ah, my moment of escape._ Taking a last look, he quickly retreated from the garden, moving quietly to the rear kitchen door of the Burrow. Pausing a moment to listen at the door, he slipped inside and took a breath of relief. No one was in the house and for the first time all evening he was completely alone.

Making a beeline for the lounge, Harry sank into the settee and closed his eyes, feeling the beginnings of a headache start to fade. As he sipped his beer, his thoughts turned to the upcoming week. It was going to be very busy, even though he and Ron had completed and passed their final examinations. _Still need to do my tattoo..._

Harry closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the back of the settee. _Hmm...I think I know what I want... I wish Fawkes were here_. He thought back to the magnificent phoenix, remembering him on his perch in Dumbledore's office and how his long tail feathers almost reached the floor.

 _So many colors ... red, orange, gold and even some green. All shimmering together_. In his mind, he heard the soft chiming chirrup of the bird. Harry's eyes opened when Ginny flopped down onto the settee next to him with a loud groan.

"Those old biddies won't listen to good sense!" she said, taking Harry's glass out of his hand and drinking deeply.

"Hey now, that's mine," Harry protested, taking it back. There wasn't much left, so he drank it down with a big gulp. "Which old biddies? Those ones pestering poor Nev and Hannah?"

"Yes. Mum got out her silver pendulum and just insisted that it said they were having a boy, but then another said she'd got it wrong and that Hannah was having twin girls. So there was a whole argument about that. And then they had to bring Neville into it and just start doing the most absurd things. Like the father's hand size has anything to do with anything." She pushed her hair off of her forehead. "And of course I'm just a Healer trainee, so I don't know anything, never mind that I just had an obstetrics course."

"Well, you know what they say about the size of bloke's hands, yeah?"

Ginny turned to him and grinned, holding up her right hand. "Oh? Hold up your hand, Potter. Show me what you've got." Embarrassed, Harry felt his face flush and he waved her hand away. "Ah, that's right. I already know what you've got." She gave him an impish wink and Harry felt a little thrill run through him.

"Ron still out there?" Harry asked, desperate to change the subject.

"Ugh, yes. Disgusting, letting those women feed him," she said, wrinkling her nose. "So. What's next?"

"Well, there's the official swearing in and oath-taking and then we'll be on a probationary period for six months and then we'll be full-fledged, yeah?"

"When do you get the tattoo?" When Ron and Harry had told Ginny about the Auror's tattoo, she'd been horrified at first. "What? Like the Death Eaters?"

Harry and Ron shared a look. "Well, it's more like the Death Eaters were copying the Aurors, right?" Ron said. Ginny still looked doubtful, but didn't argue.

"We're supposed to have it done before the oath. Part of the oath is the activation."

"Have you decided what you want it to be yet?"

"I've had a couple of thoughts."

"Which are?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably on the settee. "You know...thoughts."

Ginny scooted closer and leaned in, her face alight with curiosity. "Come on, Harry. You can tell me."

"I had been thinking of a phoenix feather." He didn't quite know why, but saying it out loud made him feel a bit foolish and he felt his face getting red again.

"A phoenix feather? What, like one from Fawkes?" Harry nodded, relieved that she didn't laugh in his face. "Isn't your wand core from him too?"

"Yeah. I thought it would be a nice tribute. He did save my life a couple of times." He had a brief memory of Ginny lying pale and still in the Chamber of Secrets and shook his head to clear it.

Ginny had a speculative look on her face. "How big are you going to make it?" Harry shrugged. "Where are you going to put it?" Harry shrugged again. Ginny sighed in exasperation. "Do you know anything about this thing you're going to have for the rest of your life?"

"I've thought about how much it's going to hurt," Harry said sheepishly.

"Aww, big tough Auror scared of a little pain. I thought Wizarding tattoos didn't hurt?"

"The tattoo is still done the old-fashioned way. Sort of a rite of passage, yeah?"

"I see," Ginny said, nodding sagely. "Well, we'd better get this sorted then. Stay here." Harry watched bemusedly as she jumped up from the settee and he followed the sound of her pounding feet, wincing at the sound of her door slamming shut. She ran back down the stairs into the lounge and sat down with a whoosh, nearly knocking him off the settee. Harry saw she'd brought down a big pad of paper and a fistful of colored pencils.

"Okay. So, a feather. Now, I only saw Fawkes a couple of times and you spent so much more time in Dumbledore's office than I did, so I'll need you to describe it to me." Ginny opened up the pad to a blank sheet and readied a pencil, looking expectantly at Harry.

Intrigued, Harry leaned forward to get a better view. "Well, the tail feathers are the most distinctive. They're really long," Harry spread his hands apart, "and they kind of curl a little bit toward the end. Like that, yeah," he said as Ginny made a clean swooping line across the paper.

Quickly sketching out the basic shape, Ginny pressed him for more details and Harry closed his eyes, remembering the time when Dumbledore had used the phoenix to escape from his office, right in front of the Minister for Magic. He was quite pleased and a little astonished as the feather came into being with quick, sure strokes from Ginny's pencil.

"Ginny, I didn't know you could do this," Harry said admiringly.

Ginny flushed and ducked her head down. "Oh, well I just usually make a mess. Dad draws, too. We used to draw together when I was small." She made a few more flourishes and surveyed her colored pencils. "Now, Fawkes was mostly red, wasn't he?"

"Yeah," Harry said, looking over the array of colors in front of him. He picked up a red-orange one. "Kind of like this." Ginny took the pencil from him and started coloring. As she colored, Harry directed, advising areas that should be lighter or darker and handing her the different colors. Gradually, the feather as he remembered it lay on the paper. "Wow," he breathed.

"You like it?" Ginny asked shyly, taking a gold colored pencil and adding a touch of shimmer to one edge.

"This is amazing. Can I use it?"

"Of course you can. That's what this whole thing was for." Ginny carefully tore the page out of the sketchbook and Harry got a glimpse of some sketches on the page underneath, spying a snitch with its wings extended and, _Is that me?_ he thought, feeling a small jolt run through him as he spied a very rough sketch of what looked like him in an armchair in the Gryffindor common room. Ginny hastily closed the book and handed him the drawing.

"There you are. I hope it's good enough for the tattoo artist to use." She looked at Harry speculatively. "Where are you going to put it?"

Harry took the drawing and looked at it again, still amazed that she had drawn it right in front of him. "I always thought I'd do it on my shoulder, yeah? Back here," he said, motioning vaguely to his right side.

"There? But you'd never see it," Ginny said, wrinkling her nose.

"Well, I could see it in a mirror," Harry said defensively. "Besides, I don't have to look at it all the time to know it's there."

"I suppose not." They sat quietly, looking at the drawing until Ron came crashing into the room and fell down on the settee next to Harry, nearly crushing him in the process.

"Gerroff you git!" Harry pushed him over as Ginny grabbed the drawing to get it out of harm's way.

"What's that?" Ron asked, snatching the paper away from Ginny.

"Nothing!" Ginny exclaimed, her face aflame as she tried unsuccessfully to grab it back from him.

"Ginny designed my Auror tattoo," Harry said proudly as Ron looked at the feather.

"Ginny did this? No way."

"Yes I did, Ron. I can do things too, you know."

Ron stuck his tongue out at her. "I can do things too," he mocked in a high, simpering voice. "It's really good. Nice job." Reaching across Harry, Ron patted Ginny on the head, earning a sharp slap on his arm.

Harry took the drawing back from Ron and held it carefully, admiring the colors once more. The three of them sat quietly until Ron gave an enormous yawn. "Urgh, I should have stopped when I was ahead."

"Well, how can you stop eating when beautiful girls are literally throwing food at you?" Ginny said snidely.

Ron stuck his tongue out at his sister. "I'm going to head back. You coming?" He asked looking over at Harry.

"I'll be along. See you."

"Yeah, see you." Ron stood and Disapparated without a sound, a skill he was annoyingly proud of.

"What time is it? I need to get to bed," Ginny said, letting out a yawn of her own. "We're starting on infectious diseases tomorrow. I'm not looking forward to it. Most everyone should be leaving now. I'll tell Mum you got tired and left, okay?"

Harry stood and took her hand, hauling her up and out of the depths of the settee. "Thank you again so much, Gin. I don't even know how to thank you for this."

"It's no problem, Harry. I'm happy to do it." She looked up at him and hugged him tightly. "Just stay safe out there, okay?"

"Of course." Harry cocked his head at Ginny. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Even though you got rid of You Know Who, there's still a lot of bad people out there." Ginny looked down and shrugged. "I just don't want you to get careless and get hurt, okay?"

"Well, even if I do, I'll know exactly where to go, won't I?" Harry said lightly. "I'll just show up at your doorstep and you can patch me up, yeah?" He meant it as a joke, but he could tell immediately that Ginny did not feel the same way.

"Harry, don't even joke about that," she said sternly. "I would be horrified if you or Ron showed up all bleeding and gross in my doorway. What if I didn't know what to do?"

"You're going to be a brilliant Healer, Gin," Harry said, getting the hoped-for smile in response.

"Yeah, I am. Besides, you and Ron won't be able to afford me." Another jaw-cracking yawn and she pushed him away. "Off with you. I've got an early morning."

Harry picked up the sheet of paper from the table and looked at it again. "Thanks again."

Ginny nodded as she headed for the stairs. "Just make sure I get to be the first person to see it when it's done."

"I promise." Harry waited until he heard Ginny's bedroom door close before Apparating back to the flat he shared with Ron, hearing his friend's loud snores as soon as he materialized in the lounge. _Too bad Apparating is about the only thing he can do quietly,_ he thought as he retreated to his own room. Carefully setting the drawing on his bedside table where he could see it, Harry fell asleep to the trilling of phoenix song in his head.

"This place still gives me the creeps," Ron said quietly as they strolled nonchalantly down Knockturn Alley. At least Harry hoped they were giving off a nonchalant vibe. They turned the corner and he spied the now-vacant storefront where Borgin and Burkes once did a land-office business in hands of glory and Harry wondered who had cornered the market on dark items these days. _Suppose I'll be finding out soon,_ he thought as Ron tugged him toward the tattoo shop.

They walked in, the cheerful bell above the door seeming out of place given the location and general dubious nature of the business, and were immediately arrested by the colorful imagery tacked up on the walls all around them. "Cool," Ron breathed, stepping up to take a closer look at what looked like a tiger and a hippogriff locked in mortal combat. A witch with an enormous pile of dreadlocks on her head sat behind a low counter, watching them over the tops of her cat-eyed glasses. Harry could see numerous tattoos all over her hands and arms and even a few creeping up from underneath her blouse.

"Can I help you?" she said when Harry approached the counter.

"Um yes. We have appointments?" he said nervously. "Potter and Weasley. Um...Auror tattoos?" Ron continued to exclaim over the examples behind him. "I'm going to get this one! No, this one! Oh, maybe this one! Harry, check this out over here!" Harry glanced over and saw that Ron was enthralled by an image of Chinese Fireball dragon twisted around in an impossible configuration.

"What about that one?" Harry asked, pointing toward a drawing of an Acromantula. "Looks a bit like Aragog, yeah?" Ron took one look at it and turned quickly away. "Sod off, Potter."

"Okay, Harry Potter. You will be with James. Your friend Ron will be with Ben. Do you know what you want?" The witch behind the counter gave Ron an amused look.

"Uh, yeah. I have a drawing." Not wanting to crease it, he'd rolled it up and now the thrust the rolled up piece of paper at her.

"Oh, I don't need that. Save it for James. Do you know what you want yet, luv?" she asked, calling out to Ron.

"Can I have a few more minutes? I'm almost there."

"Sure. You've got a little bit still before they're ready."

Harry ambled over to Ron to see what he was looking at. He was in front of a selection of Celtic knotwork-themed art and seemed to be vacillating between two or three designs. "What d'you think of this one?" Ron asked, pointing to one that seemed to be two intertwined ropes.

"Huh, says it's a Sailor's Knot. I dunno. You're not a sailor, yeah? What about that one?" Harry pointed to another one to the right. "That looks cool."

Ron leaned in and looked. "Hmm, a Shield Knot, eh? It does look kind of cool."

"Where you going to put it?"

"I was thinking here, all the way round." He lifted up his left arm, gesturing to his bicep.

Harry raised his eyebrows. "You sure, mate? It's pretty involved and it's going to hurt."

"Aw, what's a little pain? Besides, when it's done it'll look completely awesome." He flexed his bicep and gave Harry a triumphant grin.

"Yeah, all right. We'll see how you feel when it's done."

"All right you two. They're ready for you. Go on back." They were directed to the hallway in the rear that held three cubicles. Two burly men were standing by the doorways to two of them, both of them seemingly covered from head to toe in swirling, shimmering Wizarding tattoos.

"Hallo Harry, I'm James. If you're ready, we'll go on back." James reached out to shake Harry's hand and he saw that even the man's palm had tattoos on it. "Twila said you already have art?"

Harry sat down on a stiff chair covered in fake leather and handed James the rolled up paper. "A friend drew it for me. I hope that's all right?"

"Let's take a look." He unrolled the paper and looked at the drawing of the feather. "Oh, this is nice. Well done. Phoenix feather?" Harry nodded. "I think I can make something of this. Give me a few minutes, okay?" James pulled out a clean sheet of parchment and a very sharp quill and quickly rendered the feather on the sheet in much finer detail than the original. Once he was satisfied he showed it to Harry. "How's that?"

Looking closely, Harry could see that it was still Ginny's drawing, but more simplified and refined with very thin lines. "Looks good."

"Great. Where do you want it?" Harry watched as James started preparing the area, opening up bottles of color and pouring them into little cups. Red, yellow, gold, orange, green, black and even a purple.

"Um, I was thinking on the back of my shoulder? On the right," Harry said, wrinkling his nose as the sharp smell of disinfectant filled the air. A loud buzzing sound came from a device James held in his hand and Harry felt a light sweat break out on his upper lip.

"All right then. Let's have a look at it." He motioned for Harry to take off his shirt and sit backwards on the chair. Once he was in position he felt James's light touch on his shoulder and further down on his ribs. "Lovely skin. Virgin? No other work?"

"Yeah, I mean no. No other tattoos. This is my first," Harry said, feeling a little bit weird with James touching him here and there and calling his skin "virgin". He felt some more prodding around his ribs. "How big are you going to make it?"

"Well, you don't want it too small because then it'll just turn into a blob as it ages. Your skin is constantly changing and renewing and even Wizarding tattoos aren't completely immune," James said as he placed the parchment against Harry's back. "Okay, going to transfer the outline...just a sec...there. What do you think?"

Turning his head, Harry saw that James was holding up a mirror and he had a clear view of the outline of the feather. It started in the middle of his shoulder and stretched down about halfway his ribs, much larger than he had originally envisioned. "That's pretty big."

"It'll look smashing when it's finished and all colored in. If you really don't like it, I can change it."

Harry looked at it again. The way James had put the outline on his back had the curve of the feather following his own natural musculature and he found it quite striking. "No, leave it. It's good."

"All right!" James clapped his hands together and Harry turned back around in the chair, turning around quickly at the sound of a loud yelp across the way. "Ooh, sounds like Ben just got started. Shall we?" A loud buzzing started up and Harry took a deep breath. "No squirming, just sit as still as you can and let me know if you need a break, okay?"

"Okay." Harry nodded and even though he was sure he was completely ready, the first line sent a sharp zing along all of his nerve endings and he gasped. "Holy shit, I wasn't expecting that!"

"All right, Harry?" Ron called.

"Yeah, you?"

"I'm great! This is a walk in the park, mate!" Harry heard a low murmur and then laughter. "Git," he said under his breath.

"Shall I continue?" Harry nodded and readied himself for another round. After a while, he got used to feeling like his back was being sliced open and he was able to carry on a conversation with James, asking him how he got started in the tattoo business and how long he'd been at it and what he liked about it. It turned out that Harry was his tenth Auror and that he'd done Tonks as well. "She was a wiggler. Could hardly get her to sit still."

"Do you remember what her tattoo was?"

"Of course. She had a wolf, right over her heart." As always, thinking of lost friends made Harry introspective and he lapsed into silence save for the occasional grunt as James finished the outline. "Need a break before we begin color?"

"No, let's get it done." James nodded cheerfully and the next two hours were the most painful in Harry's entire existence. It was like a horde of stinging wasps were underneath his skin and fighting to get out. He was gratified to hear several more yelps and a loud "Bloody hell!" from Ron as he concentrated on not moving around even though he desperately wanted to.

Just when he felt he was at the end of his rope, James put down the instrument of his torture and wiped down the whole area with a damp cloth, instantly cooling the inflamed and hurting skin. Harry hung his head down and sighed in relief. "Is it over?"

"Just about. One more thing," James said and Harry tensed up again, causing him to chuckle. "No, we're done with that part. This is where the magic happens." He motioned for Harry to turn his head around and he saw the mirror had appeared again. The first sight of his tattoo took his breath away. It was bright and bold and beautiful and Harry had never seen anything like it. "Just wait." James picked up his wand and murmured a short incantation and touched it to the tattoo and the colors immediately came to life.

Completely overwhelmed, all Harry could think to say was, "Wow." All of the colors swirled and shimmered, blending together and splitting apart, but not in a way that caused the image to lose coherence. It was still clearly a feather stretching from his shoulder to halfway down his ribs with clear sections of colors, but the way they moved and blended was nothing short of amazing. "I can't think of what to say."

James wiped it again with the cool cloth. "Turned out pretty well, didn't it?" he said with a definite note of pride in his voice. "The source material was good, so that always makes it easy."

Harry was getting a crick in his neck and he reluctantly turned away from the mirror. _Maybe I should have put it where I could see it all the time,_ he thought. "Now, what I just put on you will promote healing and it'll heal quicker than a Muggle tattoo, but you still need to be careful. No scratching and avoid sun exposure for two weeks, okay?"

Feeling in a daze, Harry stood up from the chair and gingerly pulled his shirt back on, glad it wasn't really tight because the material of the shirt felt very odd against his abused skin. "Let's check on your friend, shall we?" James handed the rolled up drawing back to Harry and they stepped into Ben's cubicle. Ron was seated in the chair with his shirt sleeve pushed up to his shoulder and his arm extended on a small table. His eyes were a little glassy and he smiled weakly at Harry.

"Done already? I should have realized how many bloody little lines there are in this damn thing. Are we almost done, Ben?"

"Almost," Ben said soothingly. Harry could see that he was working on the color, blending green and purple and some gold all together. He wouldn't have picked those colors personally, but they looked striking on Ron's pale skin.

"Blimey that feels like fire. Distract me, Harry. Let me see yours."

"Nope. Promised Gin she'd be the first to see."

"You're joking. You're really not going to show it to me?"

"I'm not joking. She designed it, she gets to see it first."

Ron rolled his eyes and shifted a bit in the chair, earning a warning glance from his artist. "Well, I'll leave you to it," James said after a quick professional exchange with Ben. "Harry, it was an honor to do your Auror tattoo. I hope you'll keep me in mind if you ever want another."

Harry shook his hand and laughed. "Oh it'll be a long time before I ever want to do that again!"

"You'd be surprised. Some people become quite addicted," James said with a smile before moving off to see about his next client. Harry exchanged a doubtful look with Ron and shook his head. Once was more than enough for him.

Harry settled down on an extra chair and spent the next hour distracting Ron from the pain of having colored ink forcefully injected into his skin by several tiny needles. Finally, Ben wiped down the tattoo that now encircled Ron's left bicep, sweeping away the extra ink and blood to reveal a shield knot with a strong black outline and shades of green, purple and gold. Ben got his wand out and Harry said, "This is the cool part. Watch." Again the incantation Harry couldn't quite catch and suddenly the tattoo was alive and vibrant. Green and purple crashed and swirled together while gold shimmered over all.

"Cool," Ron breathed as he stared at it, transfixed. He looked up at Harry. "Mum's going to hate it."

Harry snorted. "I wouldn't be surprised if she has one of her own somewhere. Your mum's pretty tough."

"If she does, I don't want to know about it." He looked at his arm again and flexed. "Wicked," he murmured. Ben gave Ron the same aftercare instructions and they shook hands as well after Ben escorted them both back to the lobby. They paid the receptionist and waited as she wrote them out receipts. "Our first official paperwork," Ron said as he tucked his into a pocket of his trousers.

They stood outside of the shop for a few moments, Harry savoring the feeling of something new and exciting beginning. The feeling of finally getting on with things. "Well, where are you off to?" Harry asked.

"After all of that, I definitely need a drink. Leaky Cauldron?"

Glancing down at his watch, Harry nodded. "Sounds perfect. I'll meet you there, yeah?"

"What're you going to do?"

"I've got to show Ginny how her handiwork turned out, don't I?"

"Gerroff with you, then. I'll see you," Ron said, sloping off toward the Leaky Cauldron and the first of what was undoubtedly many, many pints tonight.

Concentrating on his destination, Harry Disapparated, reappearing a split second later in a secluded alleyway two blocks from St Mungo's in its guise as a run-down department store. He always felt a bit silly talking to the mannequin in the window to get in, but there was nothing to do for it. Apparation inside the hospital was not allowed. Once inside he asked where he might find Ginny today and learned she was doing a rotation on the Magical Bugs floor and headed up to the second floor, hoping he could catch her at a quiet spot. Coming out of the stairwell, he caught sight of her down the hallway writing on a patient chart while leaning on a counter. Looking up, she saw him and waved him over.

"Well? How'd it go?" she asked eagerly, setting down the quill she was using.

"It went okay. It's not something I want to do over and over and I'm glad it's done."

"How does it look? Can I see it?" Harry looked around the busy hallway, not too interested in taking his shirt off in the middle of it. "Oh, come on over here." Ginny grabbed his arm and pulled him toward an empty patient room. "Come on, let's see it!"

"Gin, I've never seen you so eager to get my shirt off," Harry said with a grin. Her excitement was infectious, which was fitting Harry thought, given the section of the hospital they were in.

"Yes you have, Potter," she said flatly. "Let's go." She gave a hurry-up gesture and Harry obliged, turning his back to her and taking off his shirt. There were several moments of silence and then, "Oh, Harry. It's beautiful. Can I touch it?"

"Gently," Harry warned, tensing up in the anticipation of pain, but Ginny's cool touch didn't hurt as she delicately traced the outline.

"It's bigger than I thought it would be. Did you want it that big?"

"Not at first. James-that's the artist that did it-said if he did it too small it would age into a blob. He seemed to know what he was on about, so there you go." Harry shrugged and Ginny gasped.

"Do that again!"

"What? Shrug my shoulders?"

"Yeah, it makes the colors move." Harry did it again and she clapped delightedly. "That is amazing! I wonder what it looks like to a Muggle? Probably like an ordinary Muggle tattoo." She was quiet again and Harry moved to put his shirt back on. "Oh no, don't put it away yet," she protested.

Harry sighed, giving her another minute to look at it. "Now can I put my shirt back on? It's rather cold in here, you know."

"Fine," Ginny acquiesced sadly.

Once again fully dressed, Harry turned around to look at Ginny. "James really liked your picture. Said it made the tattoo easier with good source material." He fingered the rolled up paper in his back pocket. "Thanks again."

She smiled wistfully up at him. "You're very welcome. It's the least I could do after all you've done." Harry shifted uncomfortably at the reminder of his past deeds. "And now I've made it awkward. What are you doing tonight?"

"Meeting Ron at the Leaky for drinks. I think this whole experience shook him up more than he thought it would."

"What did he get?"

"A Celtic knotwork around his bicep. It looks really cool. You should make a big deal out of it when you see it. Make him feel manly." Harry paused for a moment. "Your mum...she doesn't have any Wizarding tattoos, does she?"

A look of shock and then a moue of distaste came over Ginny's face. "Ugh, talk about awkward! Listen, there are things you don't want to know about your parents and that's one of them. Why would you even ask that?" What sounded like a series of disjointed squawks came over a hidden loudspeaker and Ginny groaned. "That's me. Got to go. Mrs. Pumphrey needs her

scrofungulus seen to. Blech."

"Sounds not awesome. I'll be off then," Harry started to leave the room and was startled by Ginny grabbing his arm and pulling him into a hug, being mindful of his new tattoo.

"I meant what I said. Don't be stupid out there, okay?"

Harry looked down at her and smiled. "Gin, when have I ever been stupid?"

Patting his cheek forcefully, Ginny smiled back at him. "I'm sure I have several volumes of your chronic stupidity tucked away somewhere." More squawking and Ginny groaned. "I'm coming. Keep your knickers on."

They left the patient room and stepped back into the busy hallway. Ginny waved at Harry and went off to tend the impatient Mrs. Pumphrey, leaving him feeling at a bit of a loss. He really wanted to scratch and resisted with all his might. Heading back to the stairwell, he caught sight of a men's washroom and quickly stepped in, making sure there was no one else inside before lifting up his shirt to see the bottom of the feather again in the mirror above the sink. _I can't be too stupid out there-I have a little bit of you with me to keep me on the straight and narrow,_ he thought, hearing again the trill of a phoenix.


End file.
